Royal Blue
by Lily Maxwell The Dark Angel
Summary: Murata knew that Yuuri's favorite color was blue. Implied Yuuram, slight spoilers to the end of the series.


**Royal Blue**

**By Lily Maxwell**

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Yuuri's favorite color was blue, the young teen mused one day, paying a visit to the Blood Pledge Castle and watching as its inhabitants did their daily work. Some bowed a little before him and he gave a nod and smile of acknowledgement back, looking up at the clear sky. The clear, blue sky.

It wasn't only once that he had caught his friend lying on the ground and looking up at the sky with an almost lazy, but content smile on his face. After a good baseball game, that's what he did to relax. Ignoring all sounds and everything else around him, Yuuri would look up at the sky, sometimes trying to figure out the shape of the clouds. He would laugh at him, when he gave the most absurd ideas, and would go back to simple contemplation. He thought that it was the time when his friend was most at peace with himself and the world.

He passed by Lord Von Kleist's office, and his eyes met gentle, black ones. The Maou gave him a sad smile before cringing, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Never had Shin Makoku had such a laid back, optimistic and kind King. And said King was currently trying to persuade his tutor into a break, receiving a new lecture that made him sigh, resting his cheek on top of the books before him.

There was also the sea, he continued his thoughts as he carried on walking through the castle. Yuuri liked the sea. Not the beach in itself, but the sea. The sound of the waves forming and then crashing on the sand, the wind that blew the salty scent of the sea into his nostrils. If Yuuri wasn't swimming and enjoying the water, he'd be caught sitting on the sand, looking at it. Sometimes the lighting, like setting sun, would change the tint of surface, but Yuuri loved the bright blue ocean just the same.

He had to stop and make up an excuse at the redhead that tried to persuade him in giving a little hand in her newest creation. At first she didn't seem to buy it, but he held his hands in the air in a defensive posture and claimed that Lord von Walde would make a much better companion – coughguineapigcough – than him. She seemed to agree a bit too vehemently, and left to find and persuade said Lord. She had beautiful blue eyes that he was certain had captivated his friend at some point.

And then there was his soul. The pendant around his neck had a constant sparkle and radiant aura, its color a vivid blue that challenged the sky, and the ocean, and all other blues that stood on Earth. A cheerful color that brought calm to the hearts of those who loved their King. The reflection of his pure, honest soul.

He halted, had come to the place where a certain prince trained his soldiers. He was merciless against his men, but his words were more firm than the grip he had on his sword. All those around him looked up not with hate or mistrust or uncertainty at the man who was known for his unstable moods and at times, childish behavior. No, they looked up with respect and something that he couldn't quite describe. Whatever gossip that could run about Lord von Bielefeld, it wouldn't reach his men. No, they were _his_ men for a reason.

And under the afternoon sun, his blue uniform was as captivating as his golden hair. All other men wore uniforms that couldn't even begin to be called noticeable. But not Wolfram von Bielefeld. His uniform was of a vibrant blue, who matched perfectly with the green of his eyes, and even though others used the same uniform, none of them looked so fit for the color like the prince. He, and he was sure nobody else, would ever expect – or want – the boy to wear any other color.

He watched with little amusement and an eyebrow raised as his friend ran past him, a goofy smile on his face. The before working prince stopped what he was doing to shout his fiancé's name, who flinched and stopped. Lord Von Kleist could be seen turning the corner the King had just come from, with three books held against his chest. Yuuri tried to run again, but Wolfram had already gone in his direction and grabbed him by his uniform – or what they called "royal clothing" – shirt and was dragging him back.

Yuuri Shibuya's favorite color was blue. As he watched his friend trying to plead the blond to help him from a slow, painful death of boredom, he was not surprised. No, Ken Murata was not surprised at all that out of the whole lot of people in this country, Wolfram von Bielefeld was his favorite person.

Yuuri shouted his fiancé's name as Günter dragged him by the arm back to his office. The blond sighed.

He just had yet to figure that out.

"Well, he wouldn't be Shibuya if he were that bright, now would he?"

And laughing silently to himself, the Great Sage continued his short visit to the castle.

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I apologized for any inconsistency in this story, since it's been a while since I've seen older KKM episodes. Let's use the excuse that this is fan material and not bound to the original source? In any case, this is my first piece of writing in a long time, so it's expected to not be so good, but I liked writing just the same. I hope to come up with other, and better, plot ideas, since KKM will have a third season that is going to give me a brainstorm of ideas. 


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